24/7 startups, and unexpected pitfalls?

[Little Sherri]

I read an interesting article this morning in an online magazine for pilots... it arose as an answer to a subscriber's questions about managing hydration in the cockpit of a small plane, because hydration is important for concentration and even, at the extremes, visual acuity, but, small planes don't have bathrooms. There was talk about using a receptacle like a water bottle, or, apparently you can buy a ziplock bag filled with diaper polymer stuffing, essentially, and pee into that. However the danger with either of those strategies are that something gets away from you and makes a mess, or, that you are busy concentrating on not making a mess, instead of flying the plane, at a critical moment. And neither strategy is particularly attractive to women. A glider pilot wrote in that he solved this problem a long time ago... he wears diapers. If it's good enough for astronauts... 

On a side note, someone wrote in that the US Air Force had, out of necessity, extensively studied human urinary output a long time ago, and they concluded that the average output for an adequately-hydrated person was 1 cc per minute, and that most people could hold about 1000 cc's (1 L) in their bladders. So, 24 hours of output would equate to about 1.5 L. I thought this was a little light, but then again, I might be way more than "adequately hydrated" with my two cups of coffee in the morning and my sipping on a bottle all day. 

But, on second thought, maybe they're not that far off. I don't log my volumetric output, but, I know from experience that on average I wear two diapers a day, if they're good ones, and maybe three or four if I'm wearing "gym diapers" for part of the day. And while most diapers make amazing claims for their theoretical maximum capacity, I know that for the way I use them, their ultimate absorbency is an abstract concept at best. I'm usually either standing or sitting in my daytime diapers, not lying down on my back or stomach, and that concentrates the incoming fire, so to speak, to the core and the lower seat area. So, really, I don't think I get much more than 1 to 1.5L in the average diaper before the bulk or leak potential cause me to start thinking about changing it. Maybe I'm at 2 L to 2.5 L per day of output? I'm certainly not hitting the 3500 - 5500 ml level that most diapers claim to max out at. 

That said, I'm in a large Megamax right now, and I've worn one of these bad boys for close to 24 hours before. But I can  get away with this because the only person home today is my wife. These don't often leak, but they swell up magnificently, eventually producing a pronounced waddle and a general "dead badger stuffed into my pants" look that is hard to conceal, so this diaper will have to hit the showers before the kids get home. 

Speaking of hitting the showers, I did my first full martial arts class in 18 months or so this week. I wore one of my Prevail Perfit diapers, under a black onesie, and it worked out pretty well. The only part I was nervous about was literally getting my butt kicked - is a diaper detectable when you're kicking someone in the ass? Everyone wore foot protection, so, my theory is, nobody would have noted the bulk back there. However there was a moment when I was being used to demonstrate a technique, where I was obediently lying on the floor, partnered with a lady who was maybe 20, and she was trying to get into position for a leg lock, and while she was watching the instructor, she had her hand perched on my hip so that she could lean forward for a better vantage point. She was literally resting her hand on my diaper, somewhere around the fasteners, and the upper edge of the side of my onesie, under the fairly high-weight cotton of my gi pants. In THAT moment, I briefly wished that I wasn't wearing a diaper, but as far as I could tell, she made no note of it, so I guess the experiment was a success. 

Although I couldn't help but note that after a strenuous sparring session, I fairly reeked of baby powder. I had on gobs of thusly-scented diaper cream, to stave off chaffing, and also actual baby powder. I think I may need to buy some manly-scented body spray, or maybe an obnoxious cologne of the type marketed to adolescents. Baby powder is an inoffensive bouquet, but it isn't particularly masculine...

[Little Sherri]

I read an article today sent by one of my diaper suppliers, talking about preparing to go on vacation, for people who wear diapers. It did not contain a lot of useful information - advising us to "bring enough supplies" is not exactly an epiphany. It did get me thinking, though, about maybe writing something up myself, that would touch on perhaps more useful and salient considerations, such as "Passing through TSA checkpoints in diapers", and "Finding products in places you've never been", which also ties into "How many diapers should I pack, and what kind?"

On my first tour in diapers, packing for vacations wasn't very complicated - a box of Pampers went into the back of the 1980's Buick station wagon, somewhere they could be reached without an excess of digging, BUT, critically, they also had to be a bit hidden - I would always make sure of that, repositioning the dog bed or beach towels to ensure they didn't get spotted by my cousins while the picnic lunch was being unloaded. 

A fate worse than death was arriving at some distant destination for a week of fun and frivolity, to discover that the local store didn't carry whatever I would normally be wearing, resulting in some awful "making the best of it" solution cobbled from what was available, be it giant (back then) geriatric diapers, too-small baby diapers assisted with tape, or going back into cloth for a few days, which was always the last resort, because it generated a lot of work, and also howls of protest at the indignity of wearing baby pants I couldn't fasten myself, and that could not be effectively hidden under summer clothing. 

[Stroller]

9 minutes ago, Little Sherri said:

I read an article today sent by one of my diaper suppliers, talking about preparing to go on vacation, for people who wear diapers. It did not contain a lot of useful information - advising us to "bring enough supplies" is not exactly an epiphany.

The biggest issue for me tends to be waste disposal.  I have to switch to disposables on holiday, and somehow the used ones need to be got rid of.  Often I can't just bin them, as maybe we're at the home of a friend or relative, or staying somewhere with limited disposal facilities (e.g. a cottage in the middle of nowhere with no bin collection).  3 or 4 days is OK - we can take them home & bin them there.  Any more, and I've got to scour the countryside looking for big bins or a waste disposal site.  And I need an excuse for heading off as well, unless it's just Mummy and me.  Taking enough nappies for a week's holiday is generally OK - I've got a big bag.  It gets a bit more problematic if all 4 of us and Binky have to be crammed in the car.  We've got a roof box, but it's currently full of my stock of nappies...

[Little Sherri]

I had a bit of a cheap thrill this morning, courtesy of my wife. I didn't think that what I'm about to describe would become a "thing" for me, but apparently, it has, sort of. Long-time readers (of which, undoubtedly, there are are legion...) will recall that way back, I ripped the tab off a diaper, and I was trying to repair it with tape, but, I was attempting to engineer a replacement tab with a "grab edge" so that it would function like the tab I lost, and trying to do that with the diaper half on, standing up, and my wife noticed my momentary struggle and asked if I needed a hand. I had performed the operation many times and didn't really need help, but I was intrigued by her offer - 99% of the time, she ignores my diapers, and anything related to them. Sure, I said. 

She said I was over-complicating things, grabbed the roll of tape from my hand, and proceeded to run a strip of it across the front from one hip to the other, securely taping me into my diaper, and also ensuring that it couldn't come off before it was ready for the dust bin, because removing it required scissors. At the time, a whole raft of nostalgic feelings came flooding in, as I recalled occasions where, as a kid, I, or one of my parents, had ripped a tab off of a diaper, and they'd repaired it with Scotch tape, or occasions where I was in a diaper but needed to use the toilet for #2, so one of them would peel one of the tabs off for me, which usually rendered it inoperative, because the Pampers of the 1980's were not designed to be opened and closed. They were one and done - once a toddler is taped into a diaper, that diaper is generally on there until it needs to be changed, I guess the thinking went. Tape was also occasionally employed when they could only get their hands on smaller diapers and the tabs needed assistance reaching the front (pullups didn't exist yet and the only other option was geriatric diapers that would have gone from my chest to my shoulder blades). 

Since that first event, I had a tab either come off or fail to re-adhere on another occasion where she'd been present, and she once again performed the same feat. So, this morning, when my Lil' Splash decided not to cooperate with being closed back up after my #2 constitutional on the potty, I decided to make a show out of walking out of the washroom, holding one side of my diaper closed, while going to retrieve the tape from our "miscellaneous debris" drawer, which also holds batteries from the Pliocene era, a ceiling fan remote that doesn't work, and maybe the remains of Jimmy Hoffa. The ruse worked, and she said something like "Just bring it over here...", which implied that I shouldn't even try the repair myself. So I obediently walked over, and she once again pulled out a few inches of transparent packing tape from the role I had disinterred, stuck it well back on my left hip, pulled my diaper snug - like, REALLY snug, and then unrolled a strip about 24 inches long, applied it all the way around to behind my right up, and tore the tape off. So now I'm sitting here in a notably tight diaper, and it's not coming off again without the use of cutting tools.

Why this excites me, I'm not sure, but if I had to hazard a guess, it would be related to her participating, if only briefly, in "this". Maybe it's further evidence that she's accepting my strange underwear preferences. Although, don't get me wrong, she still rolled her eyes, and her tone was still patronizing, her motions abrupt, but that combination beats icy silence and downcast glances. 

[BabyJilly_S]

Once could be an aberration, twice may be the beginnings of something, who knows, I am certainly hopeful for you that this may be the beginnings of a "thaw". 

[WBxx]

You're now trapped in a diaper.  You have no choice but use it!

[Little Sherri]

18 hours ago, WBxx said:

You're now trapped in a diaper.  You have no choice but use it!

Yup, I stayed in that diaper for the rest of the day, come what may. I ended up cutting my lawn at dusk - rain earlier in the day had curtailed my ambitions in that respect - and sitting on the plastic seat of my lawn tractor, I was unconcerned as to if my diaper would throw in the towel, but, to my surprise, it did not. I went up to my room at around 8 PM to take a shower and change, and my wife was sitting on the bed, crocheting something or other. I dropped my jeans and was about to rummage through my diaper drawer for a night diaper, when she asked me to dump some laundry bags on the bed for her, so she could sort them while watching TV. Dutifully, I lifted and overturned the bags, then helped her separate the laundry into piles for each of us, and the kids, the whole time wearing only that fantastically-swollen Splash. I was finally driven to abandon it by a need to pee - I was seriously concerned that if I gave in, even a little, I'd end up with a trickle running down one of my legs, which, I'm certain, she would not have found amusing. I went back to my drawer and pulled out a Barnyard, and as I walked toward our ensuite, the door for which is on her side of the bed, she glanced up from her sorting and said "You got your money out of that one.", and then went back to her task. So, evidently, she did note that I was still wearing the diaper she'd put me in late that morning. And, presumably, its pendulous status. 

In other "news", I once again got taken in by Prevail's vast and confusing product line. My "medical diaper" supplier sends me regular email entreaties to reorder or try samples of other products, and one of the emails appeared to show my current "gym diaper" of choice as being available in a slightly larger size. The diaper I'm referring to is the PerFit 360, which supplanted the 360 Breezer. They come in three sizes, a medium, which covers waist sizes in the 20's through 40, a large that goes from 40 to 50 or 52, and an XL that I have a hard time picturing - I think it might go up past 60 inches. I had tried a sample of the L, because I tend to fit on the larger side of most products' size ranges (my waist is always within range of a medium, but my thighs are tree-like), but the L's were enormous. However, the M is a bit snug, which is fine for a gym diaper, but, from time to time, I have torn one of the stretchy wings off - they have to be applied carefully. 

So, imagine my delight to be suddenly offered an "R" (regular) size option of the PerFit, which slots in between the medium and the large. I decided to get a sample of them. When they arrived, I eagerly unpackaged them, noting that they were a lavender colour, but otherwise looked like the PerFits I knew... until I unfolded one. Instead of the Pampers-like stretchy wings of the PerFit 360, these had a uniform cloth-like backing all the way around, and two small tabs per side, rather than a single vertical tab on each side, the width of the whole wing. I put the diaper on, and it did indeed fit more generously than the medium, but, it was not the same product. It reminded me of a Molicare or a Tena breathable, although with way better tabs than the latter. I like the stretchy wings of the PerFit 360 for exercising, because, like the Pampers Cruisers commercials note, diapers thusly constructed tend to keep up with "active babies", which in my case means a baby that likes to go for 5 mile runs and occasionally get thrown in martial arts classes. The R-sized PerFit seemed unlikely to keep up with such demands. 

I wore the diaper for a few hours, and it performed well for a lower-end breathable product, but, it was a fair bit looser when I took it off than it was when I put it on, suggesting that a run around the neighbourhood might have resulted in my walking back with my diaper suspended in my shorts like one of those lousy "guards". But, at least I learned something: while Prevail uses the same names for a bewildering array of products, apparently the "360" designator is reserved for ones with stretchy sides. Also, they seem to have standardized on calling their pull-up products something-something-something-underwear, while their tabbed diaper products are called something-something-something-briefs. I have somewhat cracked the code, although I still don't fully grasp why they have dozens of products that look the same, cost about the same amount, and use terms like Per-Fit, Nu-Fit, Air Plus and Breezer interchangeably. 

[oznl]

7 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

But, at least I learned something: while Prevail uses the same names for a bewildering array of products, apparently the "360" designator is reserved for ones with stretchy sides. Also, they seem to have standardized on calling their pull-up products something-something-something-underwear, while their tabbed diaper products are called something-something-something-briefs. I have somewhat cracked the code, although I still don't fully grasp why they have dozens of products that look the same, cost about the same amount, and use terms like Per-Fit, Nu-Fit, Air Plus and Breezer interchangeably. 

Back when I had a career, I was close to the product design teams.

Right through the design phase, a product had a code name that was used, not its tradename.  This not only defended confidentiality but also, allowed the marketing elves more time to cogitate on whatever it is they are thinking about when they dream up trade names.

Internally, we wouldn’t call it the “PuddleMaster SuperSlurper Drench-be-gone xp5000” (and often had NO clue what it would eventually be named), we really WOULD call it something like “Barry”.

From the technical side, we were frequently bewildered and dismayed by lengthy and completely confusing formal product names decided by marketing, often swayed heavily by focus groups that tended to reflect either the lowest common denominator of sentient thought or, the thoughts of a dominant individual (sometimes from marketing) who successfully hijacked the focus group in question.

Douglas Adams had the solution to this in mind.

[BabyJilly_S]

1 hour ago, oznl said:

Douglas Adams had the solution to this in mind.

As did Bill Hicks

 

[oznl]

8 hours ago, BabyJilly_S said:

As did Bill Hicks

 

I like this guy's thinking.  I get into trouble for suggestions like that in these enlightened times...

[Little Sherri]

That guy's onto something. 

Well, I'm staring down the barrel of a gun of my own devising... my doctor's appointment approaches. I have not gone and bought any underwear... I *think* that I am determined to wear a diaper. Nothing fancy, probably one of the aforementioned Prevails. I am not yet ready to have a chat about how things are doing under the hood, while standing there in a Lil' Bella or whatever. I also kind of think that if I have to tug the works down for an equipment check, the waistband of a white stretchy diaper might just look like a pair of tightie whities at a quick glance. 

I can't explain why this is important to me, but believe me, I am not trying to engineer an opportunity for some diaper exhibitionism. I have been to a number of appointments in a diaper already, and nobody has been the wiser, however this is the doc who wants to send me for further examination of "the area", so, that's why I've got some anxiety about it. But at the same time, I have done EVERYTHING (other than swimming) in a diaper over the past couple of years. I am fairly determined that this is my life now, so, deviating from that is perhaps akin to subjecting myself to deliberate, low-grade dysphoria at this point. I would not compare it, in depth of feeling, to what someone likely experiences having to wear clothing different from their preferred gender identity, for example, but I am grasping for an analogy along those lines. If someone who identifies as female has to wear men's clothes in order to, say, work at a bank, that's an 8 or a 9. Me having to don boxer shorts to go see my doctor is a 3. But, given a choice in the matter, I think that my discomfort would be greater, if I'm not in a diaper, than if I am in one. I just sincerely hope that it doesn't come up. Or down. You get my point. 

I'll definitely go in a dry one, probably showering and changing right before I go, and then holding it as best I can, and using the washroom while I'm there if necessary. I will also forgo an excess of baby-scented products, the scent of which might serve to firm up a suspicion (as would, of course, the scent of pee). If my diaper ends up on the radar, it won't be for lack of my trying to keep it hidden, and, I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get to it!

The real test will be the meeting with the urologist, but that's a problem for 2022 Sherri. 

[ppdude]

On 4/1/2019 at 5:40 AM, Rob110 said:

Being diapered 24/7 at first can be daunting, but after a while it simply becomes part of your daily life you stop worrying about changing in public and carrying a used diaper out of the bathroom stall for disposal.  Just remember to allways have spare diapers and a change of clothes with you at all times near by. Just remember no matter how discrete you are at some point in time people will find out you wear diapers after 4 years of wearing it no longer bothers me if some one finds out or if a store does a bag check and some one sees my diaper as its all part of wearing 24/7 and dealing with incontinence.

 

Yup. Showing the doctor or other medical personnel  also becomes pretty routine. The initial contact was no big deal either -- just a couple of questions concerning urology consultation. Never a word since.

 

[Little Sherri]

On 10/19/2021 at 8:25 PM, ppdude said:

Yup. Showing the doctor or other medical personnel  also becomes pretty routine. The initial contact was no big deal either -- just a couple of questions concerning urology consultation. Never a word since.

I went to the appointment, and, I wore a Prevail PerFit 360 - a plain, white, slim diaper, nothing fancy. I put it on right before I left, and I had to pee by the time I got to the doctor's office, so after I registered, I ducked into the washroom and did something that I haven't done in at least 18 months - I went and relieved myself in a urinal. I recall doing that when I was in Europe in 2019 - wearing a diaper, being hours from our hotel room, with no good options for a change, I used the washroom at the Eifel Tower out of an abundance of caution. I also tried to use it at the dealership when we bought my wife's car, but that washroom had two urinals, no divider, the lone stall was occupied, and, mysteriously, there was a lineup for it. I couldn't envision wrestling with my onesie and pulling down the front of a big plastic diaper while standing in a 10 x 10 room with four people in it, so I washed my hands and left, and just used my diaper, although I had been in it for 8 hours and had vague concerns about overloading it - buying a car always takes twice as long as you think it's going to take. It didn't leak. 

But I'm digressing and also burying the lead. My diapered doctor's appointment featured the best and the worst of possible outcomes, at the same time. I got in line, registered, went and used the washroom, and then planted myself in the waiting room, which was way emptier than it was in pre-pandemic times. They've adopted a just-in-time delivery model to avoid hosting 60 people in a Covid catchment area, so I didn't get much time to think about what might come next - as soon as my butt hit the chair, I got called over by a nurse, an Asian lady who looked about 30. This was not the usual protocol - usually, my doctor comes out and calls me into her office, which is right down the hall. I got up and followed the nurse, and we walked past the doctor's office... and into an examination room. Once we got in there, she indicated a hook on the wall, said "You can hang your stuff here", and then she pulled a mercifully robust hospital gown from out of a bin and handed it to me (IE not the transparent ones, as from the MRI I went to earlier this year...). Then she closed the door, and, walked over to the counter next to the examination table. Apparently, she wasn't leaving.  

I kind of shuffled from foot to foot and took an inordinately long time to hang up my jacket, and my computer bag, and then my sweater, and kick off my shoes, and then I was standing there in my t-shirt and jeans, but this lady was resolutely still present. She pulled out a new strip of paper for the examination table, she she put some gloves on a tray, she searched the cabinets for something, and I think maybe she rotated the lightbulbs. There was nothing for it - either I was going to have to ask her to leave, or, I was going to have to dive in to the deep, deep end of this lifestyle's swimming pool. 

I took a deep breath, and turned around to face the wall, hoped that she was tied up with organizing a cabinet, and pulled my belt off. I even gave it a second, to see if the clinking of a buckle would cue her to excuse herself, but, there were no footsteps behind me, no throat clearing, nothing. Feeling once again like I was about to jump out of an airplane, I slid my jeans down and quickly stepped out of them, then reached for the gown that I had set on a stool, shook it out, still facing the wall, and wanted to put it on as quickly as possible, but I had to figure out - was this one of those "robe gowns" with the opening at the front, or a "humiliation gown" with the opening at the back? There were ties all over the goddamn thing. There was no way in hell I was going to ask, so I decided to put it on like a robe, so that I could tie it up at the front. I got my arms through it and was now at least covered up from behind... so far so good, I thought. But then.

"That's backwards." I heard from behind me. I stammered out "I hate these things...." and she said "Oh yeah, everybody does. If you don't mind, please also remove your shirt. You can leave your pullup on." Well, my face turned what I can only assume was the colour of a ripe tomato, but, I was still facing the wall. Maybe the back of my neck lit up - I'm not sure. Time took on a slower quality. Was it obvious that I wasn't turning around? Was she looking at me? I pulled the gown back off, tugged my t-shirt off like it was on fire, pulled the robe over my arms like a painting smock from grade school, and then I had to make a choice... struggle to tie up the strings, my back to the room, or, turn around and use the mirror? Reluctantly, I decided to do the latter, fearing that if I looked like I needed help, she might start tying the gown for me. I turned around, red-cheeked, but her back was to me again, and she was consolidating half-empty boxes of something or other. I looked in the mirror and quickly secured the gown. Then I picked up my phone and tried to look like I was reading something very important, maybe from the Prime Minister, and not struggling to get my blood pressure under control, steady my shaking hands, and take the deep blush out of my cheeks. I was grateful, for maybe the first time, to be wearing a mask. 

She finished whatever she was doing, said "The doctor will be in in a minute", opened the door, and walked out, leaving it open. I had no idea what the hell was going to happen next - was she going to go tell the doctor that the patient in exam room #2 was wearing a "pullup"? Was she going to update my file? Several scenarios flashed through my mind. What had I done to myself? 

However, the actual doctor's appointment was a non-event. Not surprisingly, my blood pressure was elevated a bit, which she mentioned when she took it. The gowning was so that she could listen to my heart thoroughly (I'm on medication that can have cardiac implications, although that's rare). She asked me a bunch of questions, none of them related to the diaper I was wearing. She took notes and updated my prescription. She wished me a nice a day, said "Stay safe", and then left the room and pulled the door shut. I got dressed as quickly as I could, walked out, and went to the counter to book my next appointment, a year hence. The nurse who had been in the room when I disrobed was standing behind the counter, talking to one of the receptionists. She gave me a wave. I waved back. I assume she was smiling under her mask. The receptionist asked me about an appointment date, and gave me the prescription the doctor had written. I collected the papers she slid across the counter, and walked out the door.

While I waited for the elevator, I realized that I had been holding it in the #1 department, and was now unconsciously clenching my teeth. I tried to relax. It took some time. I even questioned the wisdom of allowing myself to relax in that slim medical diaper - it felt like I really had to go. But I couldn't imagine going back into the office to use the washroom. Eventually, old habits took hold, my pelvic floor dropped perceptibly, and I started to go. It wasn't a particularly notable discharge - well within the capacity of my unscathed diaper. I made my way down to my car, feeling like I had dodged a bullet but maybe hadn't dodged being punched in the stomach. 

I can't be 100% sure, but, I'm pretty convinced that my doctor had no idea I was wearing a diaper. It did not enter the conversation, which it surely would have, had she known, because I've been seeing her for 10 years, and for 10 years, she's asked me every time we've met, if there have been any medical changes that should be added to my file, and, presumably, the onset of incontinence would qualify as a medical change. Which suggests to me that the nurse thought very little of my "pullup", and did not make a note of it, or mention it. I assume that means she also didn't say anything to the receptionists or anyone else, which, if she's a professional, I'm guessing, she wouldn't have, anyway. 

So, there you are. I did it. I stared down the healthcare system while wearing a diaper, resolutely, if shakily, and I came out the other side, seemingly unharmed. 

[BabyJilly_S]

Congrats  

[oznl]

Congratulations on crossing such a line. 

I was suitably uncomfortable merely reading your account of it.

I’ve certainly worn to selected specialists but only where I was reasonably sure that the examination would be at best “shirt off” only (12 lead ECG).

This can remains kicked down the road for me.  I think I’d be more ok with dealing with it if and when some kind of incontinence during the day presents itself (right now, it’s more just dependency).

Another medical “black swan” event however could kick this to the curb.  I could either wind up at the ER on a trolley in a wet nappy or (more likely), have to deal with hospitalization as a confirmed bed wetter.

[Little Sherri]

14 hours ago, oznl said:

Another medical “black swan” event however could kick this to the curb.  I could either wind up at the ER on a trolley in a wet nappy or (more likely), have to deal with hospitalization as a confirmed bed wetter.

I've given much thought to this as well. I have been lucky to have mostly avoided hospitals over the course of my existence, with one notable exception. My few visits to the ER for dumb injuries I've subjected myself to, never required an overnight stay, or clothing to be removed. But, if I did find myself having gripping chest pains, or, if I ever get hit by a runaway shopping cart that someone lost control of uphill from me, and I end up in an ambulance, how would it go? I guess it depends on the nature of the catastrophe - I assume they don't automatically cut your pants off if there isn't a compelling benefit to doing so? I imagine that under such circumstances, the indignity of my nappy might be more than eclipsed by other considerations. 

But what about later? The immediate crisis being over, I've now been transferred to some ward room for observation, while the IV medication for feline herpes does its magic. My wife appears at some point. Does she have the foresight to bring some diapers with her? And, are they absurdly printed ones, or did she hunt down something white? Or do I have to send her to the closest pharmacy, and then spend a couple of days wearing geriatric pullups that look like panties from the 19th century? 

What would your spouse show up with, @oznl? 

I'm still processing what happened at the doctors' office earlier this week. Much like the incident with the transparent gown at the MRI, I think I have a bit of PTSD to work through. The funny thing is, there was NO earthly reason why I needed to change into a gown for the cursory exam I endured. I've had ECG's done before with just my shirt off, so why I needed to strip down to my "pullup" and a gown, in order for her to give my heart a good listen, eludes me. I think this might be further proof that the universe has a sense of humour. Either there were wires crossed somewhere, or, maybe, to make up for procedural revenue lost during the virtual appointments conducted during the pandemic, they're putting everyone down for the platinum package. If the pants come off, they get another $150 in danger pay? 

[oznl]

9 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

What would your spouse show up with, @oznl?

A sense of vengeful righteousness delivered in a cold dish of "you made your bed, you lie in it".   I truly doubt I'd get any nappy related support at all...

 

9 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

The funny thing is, there was NO earthly reason why I needed to change into a gown for the cursory exam I endured. I've had ECG's done before with just my shirt off, so why I needed to strip down to my "pullup" and a gown, in order for her to give my heart a good listen, eludes me. I think this might be further proof that the universe has a sense of humour. Either there were wires crossed somewhere, or, maybe, to make up for procedural revenue lost during the virtual appointments conducted during the pandemic, they're putting everyone down for the platinum package. If the pants come off, they get another $150 in danger pay? 

I didn't realise it was just an ECG.  That's bizarre.  I have some experience with this due to a structural defect in my heart (corrected surgically but requires ongoing monitoring).

The "fully monty" ECG (12 lead) is something my cardiologist has done at every checkup, presumably to help pay off his BMW.

I've worn my nappies to every cardio appointment since I started 24/7 (admittedly only two of them).

A 12 lead ECG is just shirt-off.  The only action south of the border is some ankle sensors.

It did occur to me during the last ECG (April) that laying on the couch shirtless, my crotch did look a little puffy but it was at best subtle evidence.  I'd checked to make sure my plastic pants weren't sticking out above my jeans.

I don't even have to gown up for an echocardiogram (another regular).  Once again, shirt off.  I've done one of them in nappies also.

NEVER gowned up and we have very similar medical systems.

 

[Diapered Dave]

I've worn a diaper twice for medical appointments. The first time was for my latest colonoscopy. As a bedwetter, I wet pretty much anytime I sleep. As the nurse prepped me for my colonoscopy, I had to put the hospital gown on. She came back into the cubical as I finished putting the gown on. I told her that I wet when I sleep, so I wore "protection", at the same time I pulled the side of the gown up, showing her my diaper. She said that was "More common than I might think", and that they would just un-do one side and fold it down to do the procedure. Sure enough, when I woke up from the procedure, my diaper was indeed wet.

The second time I wore a diaper to the doc's, I was going in for a CT scan of my bladder and kidneys. They wanted me to drink 32 ounces of water, 45 minutes before my scan. Needless to say, I felt like I was going to burst by the time I got on the table/platform!!  For this procedure, they had me stay in my street clothes. Then they do a few scans, then inject a contrast dye, then wait about 15 minutes for the dye to go through your system, then more scans. Well, I didn't even make it to the second scan before my bladder let go and I soaked my diaper!!  then I had to sheepishly ask the lady if the scan was ruined because ! couldn't hold it and I had wet my diaper. She said it would be fine, and that people frequently wet themselves.

As I now have a bladder capacity of only about 200 ml, I suspect I'll be regularly diapered for doctor appointments!

[Stroller]

Congratulations Sherri - that's a big line to cross for the first time.  I'm glad it went well.  It could happen to any of at any time.  The closest I've come, I suppose, was when I wrote my car off a couple of years ago.  I was OK as it happens, but it could easily have been otherwise, and yes, I was fully nappied at the time, with my dummy in my pocket.

[Little Sherri]

On 10/22/2021 at 8:03 PM, oznl said:

I don't even have to gown up for an echocardiogram (another regular).  Once again, shirt off.  I've done one of them in nappies also.

I've had a few of these as well, and I never had to do more than take off my shirt, either. I had similar considerations - is my diaper rising above the waist of my jeans, am I a bit "puffy" down there... and then the matter-of-fact technician quickly dispelled any notion that he gave more than a passing thought to anything other than what was on his screen. I realized I could have worn a unicorn costume, and as long as the top came off, he wouldn't have noticed. 

 

On 10/23/2021 at 3:45 AM, Stroller said:

The closest I've come, I suppose, was when I wrote my car off a couple of years ago. 

This happened to me as well. I didn't write my car off, rather, a lady who prioritized Instagram over the view out of her windscreen ran into the back of my car at full tilt while I was stopped at a light. I was grateful for words of my driving instructor, who always implored his students to leave a good gap between themselves and the cars in front of them when stopped, because she pushed me a car-length down the road, and I was fully on the brakes. I thought I HAD hit the car in front of me, but the light turned green a moment later and that guy continued on his merry way. My car and the car of the lady that hit me had essentially become one, however. A full house of emergency responders descended upon us, all of them asking me if I wanted to sit or lie down, I guess because of what my car looked like, but I had hopped out of that thing immediately, under my own power, and then stood beside it while we waited for the excitement to commence, so I didn't feel any need to recline - I had so much adrenaline coursing through me that going for a jog would have felt more natural. The car had done its job absorbing the energy of the collision, and other than a bit of a headache, I felt fine. 

HAD I needed my clothes cut off in the back of the ambulance, I believe that at the time, what would have been revealed was a Goodnites pullup under a pair of sober black boxer shorts - this was prior to my going 24/7. Thus, I have always had in the back of my mind the possibility that I might sooner or later find myself surrounded by a cadre of highly-paid professionals, while wearing only a diaper emblazoned with pastel sea creatures or whatever. I'll jump off that bridge when I come to it, I guess. 

In other news, I experienced a catastrophic product failure yesterday. It was not the fault of the product, rather it was my doing - I was failure-testing the lavender Prevail diaper I'd ordered samples of, mistakenly believing it was a new size of a product I had worn before. I'd been in it for a few hours, and it seemed to be holding up well, but I knew it was near the end of its rope, and I was due for a shower and nighttime diaper anyway, but I was puttering around my bedroom, brushing my teeth and such, and absentmindedly wetting here and there, as is my usual process these days. I was in no rush. My wife was sitting in bed, crocheting something, and we were talking about this and that while I moved laundry around. I was wearing a sweatshirt up top, and just the diaper below. I was standing almost right beside where my wife was sitting, when I felt an alarming sensation - liquid movement. I looked down in time to see a rivulet of pee commence streaking down my thigh. I had an armful of dirty laundry, so, unable to think of anything better to do, I pressed it against myself and staunched the flow. I cast a harried glance at my wife, only a few feet from me. She was engrossed in her needlework and had noticed nothing. I turned my back more towards her, and stood there, absurdly holding a bolus of laundry against my upper thigh. I tried to rescind authorization for an environmental release, but it did no good - once I start peeing, I can't stop, even if I really, really want to, apparently. 

Luckily, my habits in that department have long trended towards more frequent, lower-volume events, and this was no exception, so things ended pretty quickly, and I was able to deposit the slightly-damp armload into a basket, and dash into the bathroom to take off my sopping-wet diaper. I have no idea what the repercussions might have been, if my beloved had happened to look up in time to see me either peeing down one of my legs, or, mysteriously embracing a load of laundry in a slightly intimate manner.

After my shower, I put on a Rearz Barnyard, a Swiss bank of a diaper, and then pulled out my grey one-piece pajamas, because it was chilly in our room, and I have up to now resisted the urge to turn the heat on, although it is getting well down into the single-digits at night. I'm kind of amazed that the heat produced by our various activities is still managing to keep the house at 18 or 19 C, without the use of the heating system or the fireplaces, but those days are drawing to a close. I saw the number 3 in the forecast, with no number appearing before or after it. I resolved to bleed the system and test it in the morning.

The result of my wearing the onesie to bed was another diaper dream. It was mostly nonsensical - for some reason, I was out with my wife and a couple of friends, for an evening walk, and I was wearing the onesie I actually had on in reality, over a big diaper. I had a jacket on over top of it, and I recalled wondering, in the dream, why I'd gone out dressed like that - I kind of suspected that I looked like nothing more or less than a guy wearing a big diaper under childish pajamas. But, I carried on. Then, I was struck with the need to pee, and, strangely, I briefly cast about for a stand of trees or bushes that I could head for, when it occurred to me again, in the dream, that I was wearing a diaper... so, I just relaxed, and nature took its course. That's as much of the dream as I can recall, but, when I woke up, I found the diaper spectacularly wet up the front, and bone dry at the back. My onesie and the bedding were unscathed. 

[oznl]

6 hours ago, Little Sherri said:

The result of my wearing the onesie to bed was another diaper dream. It was mostly nonsensical - for some reason, I was out with my wife and a couple of friends, for an evening walk, and I was wearing the onesie I actually had on in reality, over a big diaper. I had a jacket on over top of it, and I recalled wondering, in the dream, why I'd gone out dressed like that - I kind of suspected that I looked like nothing more or less than a guy wearing a big diaper under childish pajamas. But, I carried on. Then, I was struck with the need to pee, and, strangely, I briefly cast about for a stand of trees or bushes that I could head for, when it occurred to me again, in the dream, that I was wearing a diaper... so, I just relaxed, and nature took its course. That's as much of the dream as I can recall, but, when I woke up, I found the diaper spectacularly wet up the front, and bone dry at the back. My onesie and the bedding were unscathed. 

This is exactly how the bedwetting thing started for me: early clues were vivid “pee dreams” (they STILL sometimes happen) and waking up to nappies that seemed to be wetter than I could remember being responsible for.

Fast forward 18 months or so and MOST nights you can’t exactly recall using your nappies in bed to any extent when you wake up in the morning and yet they’re thoroughly wet anyway and, if you skip using the nappy, you may get woken up by wet sheets at 3am instead…

[Little Sherri]

I got called out by my beloved this morning, when we both arose from bed at the same time, and headed toward the washroom. I could tell that she was angling to get in there and I asked if I could just go in for a quick second - I wanted to rinse off and put away my pacifier, and wash my face before heading downstairs. Her morning bathroom routine is considerably more involved than mine is, requiring tinctures containing ancient, secret ingredients comingled with the latest in scientific advancements, yet available off the shelf at the local pharmacy. However, she shut down my proposal thusly: "Anyone wearing Pampers goes to the back of the bathroom line, in my opinion." 

The "Pampers" that I was wearing were, in fact, Rearz Lil' Squirts, and the reason I had that particular diaper on was because SHE had selected it. She's been battling a sinus infection and also working late over the past week, and I had headed out last night to meet up with buddies for a later-than-usual-for-a-weeknight pint at the local watering hole. The arrival time was driven by one guy's hockey requirements. 

She has no compunctions about coming into the room after I've fallen asleep, and rifling about in the laundry or whatever she needs to do, but when she's asleep, she wants no interruptions. Which is somewhat fair, since I can fall back to sleep at the drop of a hat, whereas it takes her a couple of hours sometimes to wind down into blissful unconsciousness. I guess she was picturing my stumbling around in the wee hours using my phone flashlight to get undressed and to extract sleepwear from my bedside dresser. SO, she sent me a text at around 11 PM stating that "I put your stuff on the counter in the bathroom - please don't go hunting around the room, I want to get a good night's sleep." I saw that and was curious as to what "stuff" she was referencing, but I figured that before I second-guessed her gesture, I'd better have a look, so I crept into our room, patted the dog on the head in the dark, tiptoed into the bathroom, pulled the door shut, and then turned on the lights. Next to the sink on my side of the counter, she had stacked one of my sleeping shirts, and, the aforementioned sea-themed printed diaper. 

I cogitated for a moment on why she had chosen that particular product; my diaper drawer held at least a few options - Megamax's in white, a stack of white Prevail gym diapers (useless for overnight wear, however), one Bambino Teddy, a couple of the awful Tena's she'd bought me a while back that I should probably use to dry the car the next time I wash it, and... four Lil' Squirts. As much as I might have liked to ascribe deeper motives to her selection, in the end, I realized that it probably came down to those being the ones at the front of the drawer, rather than being her "preference" or whatever. 

The whole thing reminded me of when we used to travel when I was a kid, however. At home, I was generally left to get myself ready for bed - I had a drawer with pajamas in it, and at one time a basket, and later, a box in the closet for diapers, and other than when I was really young, it was pretty rare for them to be laid out for me, other than maybe at Christmas, if I was supposed to be in the pajamas that some aunt had sent me, for the morning photoshoot around the tree or whatever. 

But when we stayed at hotels or other people's houses, my mom was the keeper of the suitcases - she hated the idea of them just being open on the floor, disgorging their contents, or the possibility that dirty laundry might get intermingled with clean, so they usually stayed in her room, and so she would carefully lay out pajamas for us, either on our beds, or on a countertop such as the ones hotel rooms often have right outside the bathroom, for the coffee maker and such. My pile always included a diaper that my brother and sister's did not. Sometimes my mom would bury it inside my pajamas, and sometimes it would just be sitting on top. Since us kids usually shared a room, there weren't many secrets, anyway, and if we were in Florida, or at the cottage in the summer (which did not have air conditioning), I might very well be sleeping in just a diaper and a shirt, anyway.

That combination continues to be my preferred evening wardrobe, although my lounging about in just a diaper is going to require more determination in the coming weeks, as the temperature outside drops into the single digits, and, down into negative values overnight. My wife and I are at perpetual loggerheads over the temperature in the room these days. Her and I both generally like it cool when we sleep, so for years, we seldom disagreed on the topic, but lately, probably due to menopause, she's having hot flashes at all hours and sometimes wants to be able to see her breath in our bedroom, which does not pair well with my only-a-diaper evening leisure wear.  Which I suppose doesn't bother her, either - my being forced by the climate in the bedroom to put some pants on. Maybe I should order some gloriously printed one-piece pajamas and see how she likes that? 

[Little Sherri]

On 10/27/2021 at 1:32 PM, diaperedboilerman said:

In my house anyone in Pampers don't even need to use the bathroom unless it is shower time.....or poop time

These are the rule here as well! Well, at least the rules as I apply them to me. I don't know that I'll ever sell my wife on the convenience of wearing diapers. But I'll try to keep leading by example. 

I've come across further evidence that the Universe has a sense of humour... the kids are in school today, and I'm working from home as usual, as is my wife, so, I decided I could enjoy a nice day in a big diaper. However, I threw some pajama pants on over it for my "commute" to the office, which is across my driveway. I could probably make the trip in just a diaper, but anyone driving by might get a sight that they wished they hadn't seen, and also, it's cold out now. Once I got over to my office, I took my pants off and enjoyed doing month-end paperwork in just a diaper and a sweatshirt. 

At lunch, I walked back over to the house to grab a snack, and I was walking back over to the garage, and had just walked in through the door, when I heard a honk behind me, so I turned around, and saw a postal van driving up. The driver waved at me and pulled right up in front of the garage, which is not what they normally do - normally, they leave packages on our front porch. I looked down and realized that my half-used Megamax was probably fairly discernable under my pajama pants, but, I also realized that the driver had seen me walking up the driveway when she turned in, and my back was to the road, although at that point we were maybe 100 feet apart, so... had she seen anything? No way to know. 

But now, eye contact had been made, so, while still inside my garage, I pulled my sweatshirt down as far as it would go, and somewhat reluctantly walked back out again, to greet her. She jumped out and opened the side door of the van... and, of course, pulled out a case of diapers. There was nothing on the packaging that said "Box of big plastic diapers" but I knew right away that's what it was, because I'd received an email earlier that my order was out for delivery. So.... there I was, in a bulging Megamax, taking delivery of a box of Megamax's. Then, of course, her scanner didn't work, so she had to go back into the van and get another one, and meanwhile, my wife came out and walked over from the house, and said "Oh, what did you get?", and said "Not sure...", and then the lady asked to scan the barcode again. Then my wife noticed that the van was right-hand drive (not common here in North America, but used for rural postal vehicles because it puts the driver within arm's reach of mailboxes without having to exit the vehicle or drive into oncoming traffic on the shoulder). She started talking about that, and the conversation went on for another few minutes, while I stood there with my box of diapers under my arm, aware the whole time of my snug pajama bottoms conforming themselves to the outline of the diaper I had on. What I wondered was, when she scanned the package, did it offer her any information about what was in it? Or, being a long-time postal employee, would she just know? Seeing me in that getup, getting from 2 + 2 to 4 wouldn't have taken much in the way of mental gymnastics. 

Finally, the lady got into the van and backed down the driveway, and then my wife asked again what was in the box, and I said "Diapers", to which she said "More?". I didn't know how to answer that. Yes, more, but not really, because, after all, they are also being drawn down at a rate of 2 - 3 a day... I said "They'll fit into the current shelving - I'm going to shuffle some half-emptied packets around." She shrugged and walked back the house, and I waddled after her, carrying my box. 

[Little Sherri]

Well, I wish I was able to summon @diaperedboilerman's conviction, but alas, I was not, so I spent part of the day in a Bambino Classico, which is a very comfortable diaper, but then a friend of mine texted me that he was dropping by to borrow some brewing equipment, and I just couldn't leave it on - I knew that I'd be walking around in my garage and stooping over etc, with that big plastic diaper on, already pretty swollen, and that I'd have to either change my outfit to better cover the diaper, or, change my diaper. I had slept in it so I'd already gotten about 16 hours or so of wearing it, but, it wasn't that wet, and they are gloriously comfortable.

Alas, I have consigned it to the diaper bin, and now I'm in an InControl Active Air, which is probably the best cloth-backed diaper I've worn, in terms of capacity and reliability. It being a Friday evening, there is a good chance that either someone else will drop by, or I will end up meeting with people, and with pubs and restaurants now being open for business again at full capacity (for the vaccinated), I might very well end up out in public somewhere. An Active Air isn't a bad choice for such a night, as much as I prefer plastic diapers, generally. But I'd have had to go digging in the basement for a mid-grade diaper like a Lil' Monster, which I have no more of in my diaper drawer. The Active Air fell readily to hand. I will have to stock my drawer up again this weekend, however, which will involve opening new cases of Lil' Monsters or Lil' Splash diapers, a new case of Megamax's, and, a new bag of my Prevail gym diapers as well. It's like Christmas! But in the meantime, there are slim pickings in the diaper drawer that I draw my daily diapers from. I think I have an Alpaca in there for when I go to bed tonight. THAT's a big diaper. Hopefully I end up drinking tonight, or it will not live a full and productive life. 

[Little Sherri]

Rearz has introduced a 7000 ML diaper called the Mermaid Tale. I am considering breaking my moratorium on the purchasing of one-off diapers just to test them out. Although if they're anything like the Alpacas, which they also call "overnight diapers" or "nighttime diapers", then I may only rarely get a chance to actually use one to anywhere near its full potential, because for me, the issue isn't maximum range, so much as it is a question of how obvious my diaper can be. There are maybe 15 - 17 hours in a day that I can get away with obviously being diapered - from about 10 PM until 3 PM, assuming I'm working from home and don't need to go buy dog food or whatever. But in practice, my overnight output is low, so other than swelling up the front heroically, I often can't kill a large size Megamax or Safari before I have to take it off because the the kids are home and I need to be in something slimmer. 

I've managed to burn through most of my bags and sample packs of one-off diapers, and I'm approaching only running off of things I buy by the case. I suppose if I were a complete disciple of paying homage to my childhood experience, I would just have one, or at most two, brands of diapers in stock, both of them white, and, I wouldn't have more than two cases. I don't recall there ever being more than to boxes in my closet at one time. I have no idea how many they held - maybe 40? There was also a case at the cottage, although after a while, we stopped leaving one up there, because mice got into them from time to time, to harvest the stuffing for making nests. That occasionally precipitated a drive to the local store for a bag of diapers to get me through the weekend, and they didn't carry my usual size of Pampers, so I was not impressed. I can't remember what we had to buy, though - Luv's existed at the time, and maybe Huggies, or maybe they were a generic brand. Sometimes I'd just end up in plastic pants and a cloth diaper, which pleased neither my mom, nor me. The closest store was essentially a glorified gas station, so you took what you could get. Their beer selection wasn't great, either.